The week drags on with no news of Ben. I visit the Hospital Wing every day, but Madam Pomfrey never lets me past the door. "I can assure you that Mister Copper will be fine, Miss Serantos," she assures me. "I will let you know when he is ready to receive visitors. Now, don't you have class to go to?"

I look past her, to where Ben lies pale and unmoving. He's too far away for me to see any improvement. "Yes," I admit, hurrying off to whatever class I have next, only to return the next day.

Madam Pomfrey's response never changes. She never has any bad news, but I can't stop fearing that we left Ben in that ice for too long.

I visit the hospital wing once again after classes that day, expecting to be turned away yet again. "Mister Copper is awake," Madam Pomfrey informs me.

"He is?!" I feel a rush of joy, but it fades when I take in Madam Pomfrey's solemn expression. "That's good news, right?"

"Yes, but the ice has had some strange effects on him. A few days ago, Mister Copper started shaking and repeating, 'can't help them, can't help them', in his sleep. He requested to see you as soon as he woke up. I wouldn't worry too much. I've seen stranger things in my time at Hogwarts," Madam Pomfrey says, but her reassurance isn't convincing. If Ben's behavior is nothing to worry about, then why does she look so grim?

I walk to Ben's bed. He stares up at me, eyes blinking and unfocused. He looks confused. "How are you feeling, Ben?" As soon as the question escapes my mouth, I wish I hadn't asked. He's been trapped in cursed ice for over a month. How do you THINK he's feeling, idiot?

"I feel… cold. Tired," Ben says.

"Should I leave, and let you rest?" I offer. I have so many questions to ask him, but Ben's recovery is the priority. There will be time for questions when he's healthy.

"No. Please don't go. I have to tell you something- something very important."

I wait, but only silence follows his words. It stretches out between us, awkward and unbroken, until I finally speak. "What?"

Ben's face scrunches into an expression of frustration. "I can't remember. I can't remember anything. I just- I just woke up, and I knew there was something I had to tell you."

"Maybe you'll remember later. I'm sure Penny can brew some potion, or Rowan knows a way to recover your memory." I wish I felt as confident as I sounded. If Madam Pomfrey can't help him, then what chance do we have?

As if my thoughts have summoned her, Madam Pomfrey hurries over to us. "That's enough time, Miss Serantos. Mister Copper needs his rest."

"I'll be back tomorrow, Ben," I promise. I leave without protest. My friends need to be updated on Ben's recovery.

The four of us gather in the Artefact Room, pushing aside objects to clear a space on the floor large enough for us to sit in a circle. Thanks to our earlier visits, the room is no longer as dusty as it once was, but Penny still sneezes twice.

Once we're all settled, I tell them what happened when I visited Ben.

Rowan looks suspicious. "Do you think he's telling the truth?"

"Yes," I say automatically. Ben is my friend. Why would he lie?

"I think he's hiding something," Rowan says. "Maybe he's trying to protect us from whoever sent those messages…"

I'm relieved that Rowan thinks Ben's intention is to protect us, and not something more nefarious. "I don't know. I got the feeling that we know just as much as Ben does…"

"I wish we knew how he got trapped in that ice…" Penny looks troubled.

So do I, but just wishing will accomplish nothing. We need to figure out what's going on with that corridor, but when can we explore it? We can't wait until the next Quidditch match, that's for sure.

As it turns out, I don't have to find a way to explore the corridor. It finds me.

I wake that night to bitter cold, and immediately know what happened. I haven't been sleepwalking quite as much this year, only about twice a week.

My pajamas are made of thick flannel, but even so, the cold bites into me like a sword. I can't stop shivering.

"Lumos." The yellow light at the end of my wand reflects off the ice around me, but it offers no heat. If I want to explore, I have to do it quickly.

I skate down the corridor in my socks. I wore two pairs tonight, because the castle has been freezing, but my feet are still numb.

The stalagmite that once held Ben is replaced by another. There's no sign of the damage done by Professor McGonagall's spell.

There's nothing here. Maybe I should come back later. I shake my head and slide forwards. Just a little longer.

As I examine the back wall, I feel air seeping out between the stones. It's even colder than the air in the corridor. The movement isn't much, not enough to qualify as a breeze, barely more than a puff of air. I've found it.

Then the cold drives me away, and I leave, drawn by thoughts of my warm bed and the news I have to share with my friends.

It's hard, explaining to my friends how I ended up in the frozen corridor last night. I've always kept my sleepwalking a secret. I don't know why exactly, but I don't intend to break tradition now.

In the end, I simply say that I'm good at avoiding Filch. My friends frown, but seem to accept this.

"I know a spell that might be useful," Alana says. "Revelio. Professor McGonagall taught it to me in our private lessons."

"So tonight, the two of us return to the corridor," I say. Rowan opens her mouth to protest, but I cut her off. "A large group is more likely to be caught."

Rowan nods. "That's not what I was going to say. We've got to get to Potions."

Alana checks her watch. "Oh no, we've only got ten minutes!"

I throw open the lid of my trunk and frantically gather my Potions supplies. We missed breakfast. Oh well, I'm not hungry anyways.

I dash out after Rowan, who was more prepared, while Alana rummages through her trunk. Normally we would wait for her, but we'd rather not be late to Snape's class.

The two of us take seats at the only empty table- Merula's. Of course. Tulip is already in another of the seats, which seems odd since there's an open seat at a table of Ravenclaws.

Merula throws us her trademark smirk. "I heard you found your friend," she says, but that's all she has a chance to say.

Alana scurries in and throws her stuff down at the table with Andre and his friends. Technically, she isn't late. Professor Snape doesn't care, though.

"You're late, Miss Morgan," he says, staring at her icily. I feel bad for Alana, but also glad that for once, I'm not the one in trouble. "Five points from Ravenclaw."

Alana looks down at the table. She knows better than to protest, although I'm sure she wants to. I know I do. What's the point, though, when it won't accomplish anything except stirring up more trouble?

"Today you will be brewing Strengthening Solution. The instructions are on the board. You may begin." Professor Snape sounds even grumpier than usual. I wonder why he's so upset.

"I haven't had to see as much of you this year as last year," Merula says in a surprisingly conversational tone. I'm not fooled. Merula doesn't make small talk, not with me.

"Let's keep it that way," I say, narrowing my eyes at her suspiciously.

"So rude, Serantos," Merula says, still in that fake-friendly voice. "What have you been doing this year?"

"Is that even a real question? I've been looking for Ben. Obviously."

"But not for the Cursed Vaults?"

So that's what she wants. "No." We have started searching for the first Vault, but only recently, and Merula doesn't need to know about it.

Merula smirks in satisfaction. "Good to see you've given up. You were never going to reach them before me. And once I find them, no one will be able to ignore me. I can prove once and for all that I'm more powerful than everyone else."

So that's what this is about. Satisfying Merula's inflated ego. I'm torn. I don't want to give her the satisfaction of a response, but this could be a chance to learn something. "What makes you so sure you can reach the Vaults before me?"

"I'm working with someone else to find them," Merula says.

"Who?" I look over at Tulip, wondering if that's why she's sitting with Merula, something no one else will do of their own free will.

"Yes, Karasu and I teamed up, but she isn't the only one."

"Why aren't they sitting here, then?"

"They're elsewhere." There's something about the way Merula says it that makes me nervous. Has she found allies that aren't students? Is it possible she's working for… R?

"Is there brewing happening here, or just mindless chatter?"

I suppose, to Professor Snape, our reaction to his presence must be comical. Merula snatches an ingredient at random and dumps it into her cauldron, resulting in an explosion of orange sparks and an almost certainly ruined potion. Rowan, even though she wasn't participating in our conversation, ducks her head. Her eyes flick back and forth as she scans the textbook at a furious pace. Tulip, an experienced troublemaker, calmly adds her next ingredient.

I force myself to meet Professor Snape's eyes. "As you can see, we are working on brewing our Strengthening Solutions," I say. It's a struggle to keep my face straight and the laughter out of my voice, but I manage it. Mostly.

"Hmph." Professor Snape moves on, leaving the rest of us to finish brewing. Merula's potion has turned neon green and is letting off a putrid stench. Whatever she added to it wasn't the right ingredient.

I gag on the smell and push my chair backwards, as far from her cauldron as I can get. Regrettably, it isn't very far.

I don't know how Merula stands the stink, but somehow she abides it long enough to collect a bottle for grading. The rest of us finish brewing potions that are significantly better, and place them on Professor Snape's desk.

"Tonight," Alana mouths as she passes me. I nod slightly. We can't put this off, especially not now that Merula has made it clear she'll be racing us.

The ice has spread. The floor outside the library is now slippery, topped with little stalagmites that are no more than bumps. Where will it stop? Will the whole school freeze?

"Here," I whisper, pressing my hands to where I felt that cold breeze. With gloves on, it's harder to detect, but it's grown more obvious since last night.

"Revelio," Alana casts, touching her wand to the wall. The cobblestones shimmer and ripple before melting away. Behind them is a staircase. It's lit by a golden light from some unseen source.

Alana and I dressed warmly, pulling on sweaters, gloves, scarves and hats before we left. Not even all of this can protect me from the cold, which chills me to the bone.

I pull my scarf over my face. "Let's go."

I lead the way, holding my wand up. We walk slowly. I try to walk quietly, but my breathing sounds like the rushing of wind. My heart hammers in my chest. Is this a Cursed Vault?

At the top of the staircase is a corridor, lined with suits of armor. As we walk, I feel as if they're watching me, though whether they're wishing me luck or harm, I can't decide.

Alana gasps and points at the ground. "Footprints."

I look down. A trail of muddy footprints stands out against the pattern of the floor. They're too big to belong to someone in our year. "Who do you think they're from?"

"I don't know. Let's see where they lead." Alana takes the lead now, walking alongside the mysterious footprints. We come to an archway filled with freezing mist.

Alana draws her wand, determination hardening her eyes, the only thing I can see above her scarf. "Flipendo!"

The curtain of mist is dispelled, revealing a hall made entirely of ice. Despite its elegance, it's bleak, someplace living things don't belong. I feel like an intruder, walking across an ancient grave.

We climb the steps to a door blocked by a massive snowflake. I press my hand to the snowflake, sending cold searing through my palm. Alana calls out a warning, but I barely hear her. What's beyond this door? Is Jacob close?

I can feel a sort of tingling in my frozen fingers, but I don't recognize it for what it is until a beam of white light shoots from the door. I jump to the side just in time.

Behind me, Alana is not so lucky. The light hits her stomach, throwing her backwards. She lands at the bottom of the staircase in a heap and doesn't get up.

Is she dead? She can't be dead. Please don't let her be dead. I reach the bottom of the staircase in one leap, almost stumbling as I run to her.

I can feel a gentle beating in her chest, slow but rhythmic. She's alive. I relax, letting out a breath in a sigh of relief. The next breath is hard to draw as guilt tightens my chest. I shouldn't have brought her.

Carefully, I lift Alana's limp form. Every step feels heavy, weighed down not just by Alana, but by my guilty thoughts.

As I walk, carrying the form of a girl who may be on the brink of death, I make a silent promise to myself. Next time, I come alone.